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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23712481">Make me arch my back like ice cream sundae spoons</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DryDreams/pseuds/DryDreams'>DryDreams</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bottom Tim, Coming Untouched, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Face-Sitting, First Time, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Martin is not great at taking compliments, Praise Kink, Tim has oral fixation, Trans Martin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 06:01:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,823</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23712481</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DryDreams/pseuds/DryDreams</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For weeks Tim has been looking forward to pinning Martin against a wall and getting him all blushy and wobbly under his hands. </p><p>Things don’t go precisely as he planned.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>528</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Make me arch my back like ice cream sundae spoons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tim has his method down to a science; of taking someone apart, showing them a good time, making himself memorable. He knows the effect he has on people and he knows how to abuse it just enough to make them melt. More often than not, it goes very well. Pleasing people pleases him; he loves to know that he is making them feel good— properly gets off on it. He is competent and confident… cocky even. He can admit that. </p><p>Martin, he thinks, will be no exception. The guy is sweet and soft, leans into touches like a cat. Tim had started really laying it on when Martin started reciprocating his casual flirting. Eventually Martin got bafflingly brave, shooting saucy little grins and doing things like dancing his fingertips over Tim’s thighs and up his chest in <em>public.</em> Tim had started hardcore fantasizing, then. For weeks he has been looking forward to pinning Martin against a wall and getting him all blushy and wobbly under his hands. </p><p>The last thing he expected was to be on his knees, drooling around a cock, hazy with want and shivering every time Martin called him a <em>good, sweet boy.</em></p><p>Tim is taller than average, and though Martin is nearly level with him and heavier, the way the guy fades into corners and speaks softly makes him feel… smaller. After Martin leads Tim into his bedroom, he lets himself be crowded against the back of the door. For that short moment, the quiet smallness persists. Martin looks at him, flushed pink, curling his fingers in the front of Tim’s shirt, and Tim feels that surge of boldness that he often does. </p><p>Until Martin pushes back and spins them around, firmly slotting them together as Tim’s back hits wood. Tim stares at him, the very minimal manhandling definitely sending zips of want through him. “This isn’t how this is supposed to go,” he teases and Martin smiles softly, tipping his head to the side.</p><p>“How on earth were you expecting it to go?” He asks and, well, Tim can’t argue with that. </p><p>“I just, you know…” he reaches up to rake his fingers through Martin’s hair, pushing back his fringe and then tugging a little. “Thought I’d be ravishing you and sweeping you off your feet or whatever. It is what I do best, after all.”</p><p>Martin leans into the tug and hums contentedly, closing his eyes for a moment. “Well maybe you aren’t the only one, hm?” He says, smiling wickedly. </p><p>Tim raises an eyebrow, though his dick is becoming very quickly acclimated to the idea as Martin’s hand presses firmly against his hip, thumb digging into the soft space above the bone there.  “You got something to prove, Blackwood?”</p><p>Still smiling, a bit softer now, Martin shakes his head. “Nothing to prove.”</p><p>Then he takes Tim firmly by the jaw and kisses him, filthy and practiced, and Tim melts in submission. Martin’s mouth is demanding and he kisses hungry, the way <em>Tim</em> always ravishes people. Tim is being out-kissed and he is <em>weak</em> for it. Martin’s fingers slide into his hair. When they tug sharply Tim gasps and moans, tipping his head back to follow the pull. Martin hums and drags his mouth over Tim’s jaw, nipping and then sucking what is sure to be a purple bruise in the soft spot below.</p><p>Tim’s breath is coming in short huffs when Martin is finished leaving his marks, a trail down to his collarbone. Martin is frustratingly calm, the faintest blush still across his nose. Tim’s heart thuds. </p><p>“You’re pretty,” Martin says, dripping with casual sincerity. Tim wants to kiss him again. So he does, leaning in and desperately losing himself in it.</p><p>Tim is fully panting when Martin pulls away from his lips to mouth at his throat again. “God, you’re. <em>God,</em> Martin.” He exhales. “What else can that mouth do?”</p><p>Martin <em>giggles,</em> and Tim nearly loses it right there. “Oh, plenty.” He responds, muffled against Tim’s skin.  </p><p>Tim has thoroughly mussed up Martin’s curls when Martin finally steps back. The flush over his nose has deepened and his eyes are a bit hazy. Looking at him makes Tim’s stomach flip pleasantly. “Hey, you’re really hot.” Tim says ineloquently. </p><p>Grabbing his hand, Martin rolls his eyes. “If you say so,” he says flippantly and turns, tugging Tim with him towards the bed. </p><p>It takes a moment for Tim’s legs to catch up with his brain and he takes a few stumbling quick steps. “No, Martin <em>really.”</em></p><p>Martin just huffs and pushes Tim to sit on the bed. Tim frowns at him for a moment, but Martin reaches out and smooths his thumb over Tim’s cheek, cradling his face. The frown dissolves as it goes and Tim closes his eyes, leaning into the touch. </p><p>When Martin’s roving fingertips brush over Tim’s lips he parts them instinctively, tongue darting out, tasting salt. Flustered, he opens his eyes and looks up to find Martin gazing back, his expression a mix of awe and satisfaction. A small, wanting noise escapes Tim’s throat as Martin testily pushes against his bottom lip and he opens, moans outright when Martin presses down on his tongue.</p><p>“Oh, <em>Tim,”</em> Martin breathes reverently as Tim suckles at his thumb, eyes fluttering shut again. “We’re gonna have to do something about <em>this.”</em></p><p>Tim doesn’t exactly know what that means but he has several ideas and he is thrilled about all of them.  He grins up at Martin and bites down gently before pulling back. “Please elaborate,” he says. Martin doesn’t answer, just smiles mysteriously and turns to the bedside table.</p><p>“What do you think, this seem like a good size?” Martin asks neutrally after fishing around in a drawer for a minute. When he turns he is holding a harness in one hand and a powder blue dildo in the other, respectable length and wide enough that Tim knows it will make his jaw ache just a bit to take the whole thing. No problem, though. No problem at all. </p><p>His positive answer must be clear on his face. He catches himself licking his lips and glances up to catch Martin’s eye, sucking in a slow breath. “Yup.” He says simply, a bit strained. </p><p>“Lovely,” Martin says and tosses it onto the bed. “Do you want to take your clothes off?” He asks and it sounds like a non rhetorical question, which is funny because really there’s not much Tim wants more. He scrambles to tug his shirt over his head and goes for the button of his pants. Then he catches Martin pulling his own sweater over his head and stops cold. The expanse of freckled skin suddenly exposed to him is begging to be kissed, and he nearly trips over his feet getting over there. </p><p>Martin gives him a confused smile when his eyes come back into view, his glasses askew. “Can I help you?” He asks, throwing the sweater on a chair. </p><p>Both their eyes follow Tim’s hand as he trails a fingertip down Martin’s sternum and then flattens his palm, sliding it back up to rest at the base of Martin’s neck. “Just wanted to touch,” he says and Martin shakes his head but does not protest when Tim leans in to mouth at his neck and shoulder. </p><p>With a little coaxing, Martin lets Tim push him to sit on the bed. “At least take your pants off, Tim,” he says, putting a hand on Tim’s chest to keep him at bay. With a huff Tim does, in one hurried motion. Martin bites back a grin and does the same, lifting his hips to wiggle his jeans off. </p><p>Then Tim crowds him back onto the bed and settles above him, straddling one of his thighs, arms framing his head. There’s a glint of something in Martin’s eye that has Tim reminded that he’s apparently not calling the shots here in any way, despite his current upper hand. The way Martin’s hands slide up to his hips and rest, steady and snug, further punctuates this and Tim takes a shaky breath. </p><p>With a small tilt of his chin that Tim doesn’t realize until later is <em>permission,</em> Martin sets them into motion again. Tim bends to kiss him and Martin opens up for him right away, slick and hot and wicked. Fingernails drag up Tim’s spine with enough pressure to leave stinging paths and it pulls a high whine from Tim’s throat. When his hips jerk Martin’s thigh is there between his legs, pressing. </p><p>“Where’s smooth Tim gone?” Martin teases breathlessly as Tim sets off on a mission to make it very clear to the public that he’s had his mouth on Martin’s neck. </p><p>“Shut up,” Tim grumbles against his skin. “I’ll have you know I am <em>very</em> emotionally involved during <em>all</em> of my escapades.” </p><p>“Mmhm,” Martin hums and it’s so <em>smug,</em> but Tim doesn’t care. He’s been thoroughly had, and he’s going to enjoy it. </p><p>So again, here he is. Back up against the bed, knees on the carpet, soft desperate sounds escaping his throat as Martin rocks into his mouth. “Oh, <em>Tim…”</em> Martin says reverently. ”I would ask if this is going alright but you’re obviously having a grand time.” He pauses, as if considering before he continues. “You’re so good, so pretty like this.” </p><p>Tim glances up as the praise rushes through him and his hips jerk as he meets Martin’s gaze. With a little wiggle, without breaking eye contact, he swallows down  the whole length of the cock. Martin curses under his breath as Tim’s nose presses against the cloth of his pants and Tim feels a bit smug, finally. He brings a hand up to press gently at his throat, petting over the length of it. </p><p>He waits until his lungs start to ache, enjoying the way his throat convulses around the intrusion. When he pulls off with a gasping breath, he leans back against the bed. “You should sit on my face,” he pants, looking up at Martin with what he hopes are convincing puppy dog eyes. </p><p>Martin flushes red. “Christ you’re eager.” he says, sounding a bit strained. “Later, maybe.”  </p><p>Tim swallows thickly, resisting the urge to lean forward and fucking grind against Martin’s leg like a dog, he’s so goddamn hard.</p><p>“What now then, boss?” He asks instead. </p><p>“Up.” Martin says simply, mouth quirking slightly up at the edge. Tim scrambles to obey, accepting Martin’s offered hand to pull himself to stand. </p><p>He leans in for a kiss and Martin indulges him for a minute before he pulls back. Tim chases him, pouting but Martin holds him back with a hand at the base of his neck. “On your back or on your knees?” He asks. </p><p>Tim contemplates for just a moment. Then he sits back on the bed. “Now?”</p><p>“Unless you’d rather not?” Martin tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing slightly.</p><p>“Oh no, I <em>definitely</em> do.” Tim quickly slips out of his boxers, rolls over and puts his ass in the air. He knows he looks good like this, and he leans his head down on his forearm and grins up at Martin.</p><p>Not unaffected, Martin sucks in a breath and just looks, for a long moment, before climbing onto the bed behind him. He slides his hand down Tim’s back and over the curve of his ass as he does, drags his fingernails down his thigh. Tim hisses and arches his back, pushing into the touch. </p><p>“Do you do this a lot?” Martin asks curiously, nudging Tim’s knees apart and settling between them. Tim vaguely regrets not being able to see him, but he’s made his decision. </p><p>“What, get fucked?”</p><p>Martin snorts. “Yeah.”</p><p>“Mm, not as much as I’d like. Apparently I have top energy.”</p><p>This gets a proper laugh out of Martin; he wheezes and Tim wiggles in protest. <em>“What, </em>you disagree?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah Tim. I’m sure you’re very good at it, and you can do me next time, but… well, look at you.”</p><p>“Alright, well, just to make sure I can hold you to that, I’ll pretend I’m not offended.”</p><p>Martin giggles, and then there’s the snap of the lube cap. Tim sucks in a breath, thrumming with excitement. He hums happily when Martin slides slick fingers between his cheeks, pressing one against his hole. “Good?” Martin asks.</p><p>“Fuck yeah, c’mon,” Tim breathes. “No need to take it slow, this isn’t my first rodeo.”</p><p>He groans when Martin presses just one finger in and crooks it. “What if <em>I</em> want to take it slow?”</p><p>The first brush against his insides sends a zing of pleasure through him and he whines. “You’re gonna kill me.”</p><p>“Oh, you'll be fine,” Martin soothes, replacing one finger with two, painstakingly slow. Tim can hear the smile in his voice, smug bastard. </p><p>The pride is apparently well deserved, as Martin has Tim gasping for more on just two fingers in what feels like no time. “C’mon, please, please, you could fuck me <em>right now.”</em></p><p>“I really thought you’d be more patient, Mister ‘sweep me off my feet.’”</p><p>Martin punctuates his sentence by adding another finger and Tim growls in frustration, flexing his grip, tightly wound up in the sheets. “I’ll get my revenge… just you—<em>ngggh,</em> just you <em>wait.”</em></p><p>“Mmhm,” Martin hums, reaching down to lightly scrape one blunt nail up the underside of Tim’s cock, making it jump as Tim moans. He pushes his fingers in deep, rubbing firmly against that perfect spot and it’s so <em>good</em> but it’s still so <em>slow.</em> Tim shudders and whines, shoving his face into the bed as his cheeks burn. “I’m looking forward to it, I really am,” Martin continues. “Are you going to take me apart just like this?”</p><p>Tim is aching, his cock throbbing and dripping between his legs, and that little tease is only the first time Martin has touched it. He can’t formulate any thoughts that aren’t just horny white noise, but he assumes it’s a rhetorical question until Martin slides his fingers out and says. “Well?”</p><p>“Oh <em>fuck, please,”</em> Tim groans; he feels so empty and he desperately hopes this means he’s getting the dick, now. <em>“Yeah,</em> Martin, gonna make you come on my fingers and then again on my tongue before I even think of fucking you, <em>yes.”</em></p><p>Martin sucks in an audible, decidedly aroused breath behind him and then slides a hand up his thigh. The relief is immense when Tim hears the click of the lube again and the blunt end of the toy finally presses against him. </p><p>“Ask me for it?” The tone Martin takes would almost be laughable; he doesn’t even try to be sexy he just <em>asks</em> it, in his normal Martin voice, but it’s not funny because it’s <em>so hot</em> and Tim is <em>losing his mind.</em></p><p>“Please, Martin, <em>please</em> fuck me, c’mon, I need it,” Tim begs. </p><p>“Your voice is really nice, you know?” Martin remarks, as he rocks his hips and pushes what feels like just an <em>inch</em> inside. Tim groans softly, rocking back, trying to get further onto the cock. </p><p><em>“Thank</em> you, you sap, can I have more please?”</p><p>“So are your hips.” </p><p>A desperate, punched out sound escapes Tim’s throat as Martin shoves the rest of the way in all at once, digging his fingers into the soft of Tim’s sides. “Okay?” Martin asks, sounding rather breathless.</p><p>Tim squirms and arches his back. “Hh yes, <em>yes,</em> it’s fantastic give it to me harder.”</p><p>“Mm, okay.” There’s the brush of curls and a kiss at the small of Tim’s back. Then Tim can’t properly breathe because Martin gives him exactly what he wants. After a few easy thrusts, he picks up the pace significantly, knocking helpless, eager sounds from Tim with every drag and snap of his hips. Tim’s knees nearly go out from under him when the toy shoves at his prostate a few times in a row, and he curls his fingers in his own hair as he gasps. </p><p>“Oh, <em>there</em> you are.” Martin exhales and then the angle is perfect, consistent perfect and Tim shouts. </p><p>“Could you <em>come</em> like this Tim?”</p><p>Tim can’t answer for a long moment, his mind is fuzzy with need. God it’s been too long, and Martin is so good, fucking him so good; he’d really been about to reach for his neglected cock but now he hesitates. He <em>knows</em> he can come untouched. The little urge in him to be impressive and be a <em>good boy</em> swirls together with the want to rise to a challenge. He keeps his hands right where they are. “What—<em>ah, ahh fffuck—</em> what do you think?” </p><p>“Christ, you’re something else.”</p><p>“I aim to— to—<em> hhng,</em> please.”</p><p>Martin hums, leaning over him. He’s breathing heavy, puffs of air warm against Tim’s hot skin. </p><p>“Gorgeous,” he murmurs as Tim’s thighs start to shake. </p><p>Tim tugs hard at his hair, the sharp pain sweet. His orgasm is building slowly, the pressure curling in his belly; he wants to touch himself something awful but he won’t, it’ll feel so much <em>better</em> if he doesn’t. “Please,” he pants. “Tell me I’m good.”</p><p>Martin doesn’t miss a beat, near out of breath as he is. “You’re doing so well, you’re perfect… such a good boy for me, you love this so much, huh? Just being a hole for me to fuck.”</p><p>The praise is already so much, but hearing something so filthy come out of Martin’s mouth, <em>Martin’s,</em> sends something like a <em>shock</em> up Tim’s spine. His mouth falls open and his back bows as he comes, <em>hard,</em> his cock jerking as he spills onto the sheets. It’s worth the self control, too; it pulses through him and makes his ears ring. </p><p>Martin slows, then, rocking shallowly into him before he stops altogether. A remarkably cool hand slides over Tim’s side and up, petting between his shoulder blades. Tim takes in a shuddering breath and then lets it out, sliding forward to lay flat on his stomach. Martin doesn’t follow him, letting the toy slide out as he goes.</p><p>“Jesus, Martin. Where’ve you been all my life?”</p><p>“Oh stop it,” Martin says affectionately, and Tim rolls over to look at him, cautiously avoiding the wet spot. Martin’s curls are sticking to his forehead and he’s flushed down to his chest. His eyes are bright and he bites his lip as he looks down at Tim, unbuckling the harness as he does. </p><p>“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Tim marvels and reaches out his arms. “Don’t argue, just come here.” </p><p>Martin scrunches his nose but does, tossing the strap aside before leaning over Tim. They’re both sweaty and it’s really nice, Tim thinks as Martin kisses him. </p><p>All at once he remembers what his plan was for when they got to this point, and he pulls away with a gasp. “Martin. Martin, let me go down on you, you promised.”</p><p>“I didn’t promise <em>anything,”</em> Martin says but he’s sitting up nonetheless. Tim’s mouth waters as he rubs his palms up Martin’s thighs. He wants them around his head. </p><p>“Please, come up here, I wanna make you come, you deserve a million for what you just did.”</p><p>“Okay. Alright. Yes.” Looking flustered, Martin sits back and rids himself of his pants. </p><p><em>Fucking finally.</em> Tim’s spent cock twitches at the sight of Martin, the swell of his hips and the creases of his thighs, the thatch of light curls between his legs. “Oh, <em>look at you,”</em> he breathes and Martin flushes, glancing away. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Tim says sincerely. “Look. There’s a very easy way to shut me up.” </p><p>Martin narrows his eyes but he’s biting back a smile as he rises to his knees and shuffles over. “You’re right,” he says. “I guess it’s the only option.” </p><p>Tim can’t do anything but stare as Martin gingerly settles his knees on either side of his head. Steadying, Tim grips the back of his thighs. He’s practically drooling as his eyes flick from Martin’s face to where he’s glistening wet, dick pretty pink and swollen. </p><p>His eyes flutter shut, though, when Martin lowers himself, sliding fingers into Tim’s hair and gripping tight. Tim opens eagerly, writhing just a little as his world narrows to Martin’s taste and smell and the feel of him on his tongue. When Martin lets out a high, shuddering little moan, Tim groans in response. Christ, he sounds perfect. </p><p>The noises Martin makes become increasingly more delightful the more Tim laps and sucks at him, muffled whines and whimpers that make Tim think he must be biting on his fist. Dipping his tongue inside gets a wonderful surprised gasp and a wiggle that jostles Tim slightly, so he does it more. </p><p>After a while but still far too soon, Martin is mostly just grinding down on Tim’s tongue. His whines have evened out into short, desperate little noises, spilling out in rhythm with the rock of his hips. Not to be deterred by the increased difficulty, Tim focuses his attention on what he’s quickly learned to be the most effective little motions, chasing Martin as he moves. </p><p>Martin cries out when he comes with a little gush. Slick and spit are dripping down Tim’s chin and he couldn’t care less, he moans happily as Martin jerks above him. “Shit, shit shit <em>shit, Tim,”</em> Martin whimpers, pressing down for one long, shivering moment before abruptly pulling up and away with a gasp. </p><p>Tim blinks open his eyes and then immediately squeezes one shut again to avoid whatever sticky is dripping down his cheek. Martin rather clumsily clambers off and flops down beside him, his head by Tim’s knee. “Jesus,” he mutters as he catches his breath. </p><p>Tim pushes up on an elbow, beaming as he grabs a corner of a sheet and wipes at his face. “I could have done that for hours, oh my God.”</p><p>“Oh stop,” Martin covers his face with his hands. Tim readjusts and settles down on his stomach next to him. </p><p>“Must I? Martin, that was the best lay I’ve had in ages. If you give me like 10 minutes I will happily do it all over again.”</p><p>Peeking through his fingers, Martin gives him a wry little smile. “Yeah, it was really good.”</p><p>“Glad we agree,” Tim teases. “Can I have another kiss?”</p><p>Martin shoots a suspicious glance at Tim’s mouth but then nods, reaching out as Tim leans in. He makes a soft little sound when Tim kisses him, and it makes Tim’s stomach flip pleasantly. “Mm, every part of you tastes good,” he murmurs when he pulls back. </p><p>Martin wiggles and makes a disgruntled sound. “Tim, you can’t just say things like that unless you’re completely serious about going down on me for hours.”</p><p>“What on earth makes you think I’m not serious?”</p><p><em>“Hhh.</em> What have I gotten myself into with you? This is going to be trouble, isn’t it?”</p><p>Tim grins. “Oh I <em>certainly</em> hope so.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This has been in my WIPs for a MILLION years and it has finally seen the light, thank God .<br/>This could be in the same timeline as Why Don’t We Say The Rest for No Sound ?? Maybe?? Could be their first time in that universe?<br/>It’s up to you all, readers</p></blockquote></div></div>
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